


Andante

by lady_simoriah



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Possession, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drinking to Cope, Drunken Flirting, F/M, M/M, Multi, Season/Series 14 Spoilers, Threesome - F/M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, drunk!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-03-08 08:32:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18890962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_simoriah/pseuds/lady_simoriah
Summary: How do you cope with the aftermath of being possessed by an angel and used to kill multiple people? Drink. Drink heavily and perhaps fall into bed with the only others who could possibly understand how it feels.





	Andante

**Author's Note:**

  * For [themegalosaurus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/themegalosaurus/gifts).



> Written for SPN Spring Fling 2019 for the prompt "tread lightly on my ground" from the ABBA song Andante, Andante and for the pairing "any combination of Sam/Rowena/Castiel.

They'd won...sort of. Michael was out of Dean's head and that was a good thing. They were alive despite how Michael had tried to snuff the three of them out until Jack had intervened. Jack...that was a new problem on the horizon. One that Sam really didn't feel like diving into just yet which was why once Dean had left to go check up on their mom and share the good news, he'd dove head first into the decanter of Scotch. It was painfully ironic, he should be happy, full on celebratory even and instead he just wanted to feel numb. He was about four fingers in and had been nursing another two when Castiel had joined him.

"You look like you could use a drink."

With little more than a grunt in response, Sam soon found himself passing a glass to the bedraggled angel who emptied it in short time. He lost track of time as the decanter grew emptier and had slipped into a sort of half-awake coma when he heard the bunker door open and slam shut. He jerked upright, feeling under the table for one of the guns they'd stashed only to collapse back as a familiar face came into view.

"Rowena?" he slurred.

"Samuel."

Silence stretched between them as he blinked a couple of times, unable to quite understand why Rowena had come back to the bunker after what had happened.

"Would you like a drink?" offered Castiel.

"Nice to know someone around here still understands manners."

"I believe Sam would've offered except..."

"Except I'm surprised to see you...here...after..."

He gestured around the Bunker as though to punctuate his statement before returning his attention to the way the low light of the library glinted off the three glasses now on the table.

"Has he been at this for long?"

"Not long enough."

Despite how inebriated he was, he didn't fail to catch how Rowena's breath hitched and he lifted his gaze from the tumbler in his hand to her face. For a brief moment the mask of confidence he knew she wore dropped and what he saw beneath was a painfully familiar reflection. He watched her shift the glass in her hand, twisting it almost thoughtfully as she eyed him, her veil of detachment sliding back into place.

"You sound like your brother," she huffed. "I would've expected better of you considering the circumstances."

"Yeah? Well excuse me for not striking up the band and putting on a happy face."

He could feel the weight of their eyes on him as he finished off the glass in his hand and poured out another two fingers, amber liquid splashing slightly from how his own hand was unsteady. He tightened his grip on the decanter when he felt Castiel's hand rest on his own and pulled back, glaring mutinously across the table at the angel.

"I think you've had enough, Sam." 

"Now you're the one sounding like Dean," he retorted.

"Aye, and I think if your brother were here he'd have poured your sorry self into bed by now," remarked Rowena.

Sam shifted his glare from Castiel to Rowena and moved to get to his feet, leaning on the library table to keep himself upright.

"I can take care of my sorry self just fine, m'gonna go finish this party alone."

He knew Dean would never forgive him if he ruined the glassware, his brother was funny like that, so he downed the glass he'd just poured and staggered toward the liquor cabinet to raid one of the cheaper bottles to take to bed. His knees buckled about halfway there sending him sinking down into a loose limbed pile on the floor.

"Bollocks! Castiel, get him up!"

A broken laugh escaped from Sam's lips at Rowena's sudden concern for his welfare and he batted Cas's hands away at first, not wanting the angel's help.

"M'fine, I can walk."

"No, you're not," sighed Castiel. "And Dean told me to look after you while he was gone."

Sam almost opened his mouth to argue but the liquor roiling in his gut kept it tightly shut especially since the queasiness seemed to only get worse as Castiel maneuvered him back up to his feet, arm slung over the angel’s shoulders. He fought to keep his feet under him as they made their way through the halls and finally into the dim glow of his bedroom. He hit the mattress in an undignified sprawl and half expected to stay that way, staring up at the spinning fan. He squeezed his eyes shut, the endless spiral making his stomach churn, and grunted softly as Castiel manhandled him the rest of the way onto the bed.

"Well now, that's a fair pretty picture."

Sam groaned and opened his eyes just enough to catch a glimpse of Rowena in the doorway with a pair of glasses in one hand and a bottle of booze in the other before they slipped closed again.

"Go away," he grumped.

The sound of footsteps crossing to his bedside and the sound of glass on the table served as Rowena's response. He was somewhat surprised when he felt a glass pressed into his hand and his eyes opened to stare up at the witch that was now perched on the edge of the bed.

"Drink up," she ordered.

Sam eyed the glass warily before bringing it to his lips and wrinkled his nose disdainfully when he realized Rowena had faked him out.

"Not fair," he huffed as he watched Rowena empty her glass from the library.

"Life's not fair, giant," she retorted. "Might as well make the best of it."

Sam reluctantly emptied the glass while under Rowena and Castiel's watchful eye then allowed himself to settle back against the pillows.

"I should go," murmured Castiel. "It seems you have things well in hand."

"No need to rush off, tweetie pie, in fact why not take off your coat and stay awhile."

Sam caught the way Castiel's brow creased with confusion as the angel moved to take off his trench coat and if it hadn't been for the fact that he'd likely have to make a beeline for the bathroom, he would've smacked him.

"Could you be more obvious?" he grumbled, watching Rowena pour herself and Castiel each a glass from the bottle she'd brought.

"Jealous, Samuel?"

He rolled his eyes at Rowena's assumptions but at the same time he didn't miss noting the way her hand lingered where it rested against Castiel's as she handed off the drink.

"You definitely have a type," he muttered.

"Oh? And what kind of type is that?"

"Men with power, money, and a significant amount of emotional baggage perhaps?" offered Castiel.

Sam tried to hold it back but he couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped at Cas's rather deadpan assessment, especially when Rowena's eyes narrowed and her lips pursed.

"I ought to put a curse on you for that," she sniped.

"Wouldn't be the first time."

Sam wasn't surprised when Rowena launched herself up off the bed and squared off with Castiel who looked as placid as ever despite the drinking. What did surprise him though was that rather than storming across the room and slapping Cas across the face, she seized his tie and yanked him down forcefully resulting in a messy, half drunk kiss. His gut twisted unpleasantly and he reached for the bottle Rowena had left open on the bedside table, swigging the contents and grimacing as he caught sight of the way Castiel's arm had moved to loop around Rowena to keep her upright.

"Ugh, get a room," he grumbled.

"We're in a room," responded Castiel, followed by a soft, low chuckle from Rowena.

"And I believe we could be quite comfortable right here," she added.

The tilt of Castiel's head and the coy smile on Rowena's face as she pulled away, allowing Cas's tie to slide between her fingers, had Sam scowling and opting to roll onto his side so that he didn't have to watch them. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to blame the churning in his guts on the liquor and not the fact that he was being pushed aside. He tensed when he felt the mattress dip beside him followed by the light touch of a hand smoothing up along his spine. Goosebumps prickled along his arms and he felt something in him stir when her nails dragged slowly down his back and her hand found its way under the layers he was still dressed in.

"When I said we, Samuel, I didn't just mean the angel and I."


End file.
